


Faking It

by startrekkingaroundasgard



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alien Character(s), Alien Culture, Alien Rituals, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bathing/Washing, Celebrations, Courting Rituals, Dare, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotions, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Feelings, Fireworks, First Kiss, Fluff, Goodbyes, Happy Ending, Heart-to-Heart, Love Confessions, Magic, Mistaken for Being in a Relationship, Past Character Death, Protective Loki (Marvel), Seduction, Slow Dancing, Sneaking Around, Strangers to Lovers, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, soft touches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:55:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23104318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startrekkingaroundasgard/pseuds/startrekkingaroundasgard
Summary: The reader is travelling the universe having run away from home in search for adventure and excitement. By a lucky twist of fate, they end up on Fortuna Main during their largest festival of the cycle. Pulled into the heart of the celebrations, they find themselves mistaken as part of a couple with the handsome, if standoffish, Aesir Ambassador.Despite his best attempts to send the reader away, Loki, Ambassador of Asgard, is stuck with them. He soon senses an opportunity, though, in the form of the rare pendant around the reader’s neck. The pair strike a deal to maintain the pretence of being a couple for the week so the reader may live their fantasies and Loki may walk away with their coveted Osfray Token.What begins as nothing more than a business arrangement and a little company soon turns into more. As the celebrations pass, feelings start to become real and it is no longer just the deal keeping them together
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Comments: 25
Kudos: 169





	1. Chapter 1

The palace was dazzling, unlike anything you’d ever seen before. Pillars, carved from the finest shining marble the planet had to offer, stood so high that they seemed to hold the purple horizon in place. Crystals in the stone shimmered in the dual suns like tiny stars plucked directly from the night sky. The imposing structure, straight out of a fairytale, stood at the heart of the town, casting a protective shadow over every inch of the land that surrounded it.

It was sights like this that kept you travelling. You’d journeyed extensively within this quadrant, drawn by the allure of exotic foods, sensual inhabitants and ancient architecture. It was everything someone from Xistea could only dream of. Your planet was nice but after sampling the wonders of the wider universe you knew there was so much more to life than that. You’d hopped on a trader ship and never looked back. 

By some lucky chance, you landed on Fortuna Main during the heart of their largest festival. The streets were filled with celebrations. Locals smeared their faces with the brightest pigments, sharing their family colours with neighbours and tourists alike. Cheerful music filled the air, a strong syncopated beat that matched the rhythm of a Fortunan’s heartbeat. It was incredible. 

A Fortunan with green and blue splodges on their face took your hand and pulled you into the passing procession. They taught you a dance and other locals laughed when you tripped over the feet of a dark haired man, another off world visitor who seemed far less impressed with the celebrations. You, on the other hand, threw inhibition to the wind as you joined in with songs you didn’t know, humming a tune you’d never heard but felt deep in your soul. The flowing melodies lifted your spirits as high as the colourful kites in the sky and you’d never felt such joy in your entire life. 

The procession twisted and turned throughout the city streets, thinning as it neared the giant palace. A burly guard nodded as you approached the outer gate, a gentle heat warming your skin as you stepped through the palace shielding. The parade dispersed and an official, dressed in thick ceremonial robes with flowers in his hair, greeted you. “Ambassador. Welcome to Fortuna Main." 

"I am the ambassador,” the dark haired man from earlier corrected, stepping forward. Without the distractions of the celebration, you took in his presence fully. You couldn’t identify his species. Cosmetically, in regards to bone structure, height and limbs, he appeared similar to you however he lacked the distinct pheromones and markings on the back of his neck that would have identified him as Xistean. His pale skin ruled out any of the other planets in your star system and something about the way he held himself made you wonder how from far afield he’d really come. 

The official apologised to the man then glanced down at the device in his hand and frowned. “I have no record that you would be bringing your partner. Worry not, though, Ambassador. We can accommodate them.”

“Oh,” the ambassador said, casting you an unimpressed glance. “They’re not my partner.”

“Of course, my apologies. I meant no offence. Your concubine.” Gesturing to you, the official said, “Come. Follow me. You will be shown to the ambassador’s quarters while he is taken on a tour of the palace.”

“There has been some kind of mistake. I’m not his anything. I’m not supposed to be here.” Your arguments fell on deaf ears. The official regarded you with curiosity, no doubt having never come across such a talkative or defiant concubine, but he still refused to acknowledge your words. 

You were shown to a large suite, as opulent as the rest of the palace. The room was noticeably cooler and the lights dimmer than the hallway - “to suit your master’s needs”, the official explained.

He was quick to point out the highlights of the room. Large windows looked down over the town, still covered in a bright cover of paint and kites, framed by thick curtains to block the suns when they became oppressively hot in the late afternoon. Piles of old books, “brought up from the palace archives”, sat upon tables carved from the finest wood Fortuna Main had to offer. 

The bed was large enough to sleep at least four people and was, apparently, “like sleeping on a cloud”. The bathroom was stocked with soft towels and potions - a mix of traditional herbal concoctions, dating back thousands of years, and newer liquids specifically designed in the palace lab to assist with any discomfort that might come from Fortuna’s atmosphere. 

Once he’d completed his obligatory tour of the suit, the official was quick to depart. The door had barely shut before another Fortunan appeared, carry a selection of fabrics. He ordered you to spin for him and shook his head in despair at what he saw. “You are going to take some work. At least you have that classic Aesir beauty. I can work with that. Stand here, child. Let me take care of you. You’ll be up to Fortunan standards in no time. Now, which of the fabrics will your master appreciate most?”

“That man is no master of mine.”

The designer burst out laughing, a sound as melodic as the songs which filled the lower town. “Ah, you are a spirited one indeed. Wonderful! Your partner, then -”

“There has been some mistake,” you tried, but like the official he paid your meaning little attention. 

“Well, yes. Whoever designed this lacks an artistic eye for sure but you aren’t beyond help. You’ll be presentable for court in no time.”

As he took your measurements and prattled on about the latest fashions from Fortuna Main all the way to Outpost Seven, you decided to just accept this weird twist of fate and go with it if for no other reason than this would be a crazy story to tell in years to come. It also helped that the fabric was gorgeous, by far the most delicate you’d ever seen, and picking just one was an impossibility. You ended up with five dresses and intended to stay around to wear all of them. 

***

“You’re still here. Why?”

You glanced up from the book you’d been reading - ancient Fortunan was not a language you understood but they had an incredible technology that projected holographic translations into something you did speak - and shrugged at the ambassador. “I tried to leave but they wouldn’t hear of it. They were dressing me before I could protest and there’s a guard at the door who kept ushering me back inside whenever I tried to go outside.”

“You should have tried harder!” the dark haired man scowled. 

“Look here, Ambassador.” You strode across the room and poked him in the chest. “Regardless of what they seem to think, I am not one of your concubines. I am a real person, too, and you will address me with respect." 

In the low light, you caught a smirk on his lips but he didn’t speak so you continued, "I swear, it was a genuine accident and I have no grand plan to cause you or your planet any embarrassment. I’m just here for a little fun. Let me stay out these celebrations and then I’ll be on my way.”

“Why? What’s in it for me?”

“Count it as your good deed for the cycle?” Met with a blank stare, you offered, “I have a few hundred credits.”

The ambassador shook his head. “They are of no use outside this sector and I do not plan on staying long." 

“What do you want then?”

He narrowed his eyes and took a step closer, long fingers unlatching your shawl. The fabric fell to the ground as he traced a line around the base of your neck. You jumped back, almost tripping over the shawl at your feet, and held a hand firmly between you. "Just because they call me your whore does not mean you may use me as such.”

“No, no. I want this.” He tapped your necklace, a dark round gem embedded in the finest platinum. “It’s an Osfray token, correct?”

You nodded wearily. “Yes. I won it in a game of cards on Kitson.”

“This is my price. I’ll get you on the guest lists for every celebration this week at the palace if I can have that. You can play royalty, live out whatever sad dream this is and when we part ways I keep the token. Deal?”

It wasn’t much of a deliberation. Yes, you liked the necklace but it held no real sentimental value and you wouldn’t grieve its loss. Compared to a week of living the high life on Fortuna Main, it was worth nothing. You held out your hand and nodded when the ambassador clasped it firmly. “Deal.”


	2. Chapter 2

The first social event of the week was a welcome ball, complete with a grand feast and dancing. 

You could hardly contain your excitement. A scrawny Fortunan boy delivered your outfits from the tailor that afternoon and there were no words in Xistea to adequately express how beautiful they were. For the ball, you decided on the one made from thin navy fabric that shimmered silver in the light as if someone had captured a nebula from the skies and woven it around you. Intricate geometric designs were embroidered along the seams and edges, embellished further with tiny crystals, creating the illusion of a body shape you most certainly did not possess. 

Fashion on Fortuna Main was, by your Xistean standards, both revealing and extravagant but you embraced the deep v-cut that reached your navel with only a hint of self consciousness. The long sleeves clung tightly to your arms, contrasting the trouser part which flared out with so much fabric that it essentially appeared as a skirt. You couldn’t help twirling in front of the large mirror, grinning at the ridiculous situation. 

Where you fully embraced the Fortunan fashion, the ambassador was not so quick to fit in. That wasn’t to say he didn’t make an effort. As you sat before the mirror, applying streaks of colour to your face in line with the traditional celebratory make up for the festival, he strode over decked out in full regal armour. 

Strong bands of green and gold clung to his body, a long dark cloak streaming behind him as he moved. The metal gauntlets on his arms carried the most interesting designs, curved and swirling, simpler and softer than the lined patterns that garnished your outfit but somehow just as beautiful. You knew straight away that they told a story; sadly it was one you were unable to read. 

“Are you ready yet?” he asked, tapping his boot in annoyance. 

You glanced at the time piece on the table and rolled your eyes. The ball had only started half an hour ago and it wasn’t your fault that Fortunan clothes were so difficult to get into. Still, you held back a snarky remark, aware that he could quite easily just leave you here, or have you thrown straight out onto the streets, and said, “Two more minutes. You look good, by the way.”

“Two minutes,” he reiterated, ignoring your compliment completely. “Then I’m going without you.”

Whether he actually got caught up in reading the ancient scrolls on the table or was simply using you as an excuse to delay attending the gathering, the ambassador did wait until you were completely ready and made no further attempts to rush you. He nodded briefly at your finished outfit, his gaze lingering a moment before looking away and offering you his arm. 

The ball was held in the palace’s largest hall. It was simply decorated but you knew without touching the brightly coloured clothes which hung from the pillars and ceiling that they were made from the finest fabrics and edged in pure Trierium - Fortuna’s most valuable export. Sparkling crystal glasses were passed around by silent waiters and you were quick to taste the fruity wine, hopeful that the alcohol buzz would numb your nerves. 

Oblivious to your discomfort, the ambassador scanned the crowds for familiar faces. A purple skinned, almost bird like man raised a hand to signal your companion. He nodded in his direction then turned to you and said, “I must speak with the Shi'ar delegation. Try not to embarrass yourself too much.”

You were barely alone for two moments before being approached by a small group of dignitaries. They were a mix of species, all but one male in appearance, and regarded you in a variety of ways. Two were quite open with their lustful gaze. A third snuck glances at you when she thought you weren’t looking. Another immediately recognised you as lesser and his disdain only grew when you failed to keep up with conversation. The final of the group, a green skinned Bojar from a neighbouring planet to Xistea, put himself between you and the others like a barrier, sensing your discomfort and providing assistance as his species had always done for yours. 

They tried to include you in their conversation, mistaking you as an ambassador to your planet and not an unexpected guest of a stranger, but you soon realised just how out of your depth you were. These people were royalty and lawmakers from across the quadrant that spent their lives in luxury like this. You were a runaway who made ends meet by scrubbing floors and fixing plasma coils. 

Ninety percent of what was being said went straight over your head, the languages and dialects unknown to you. The other ten percent was so far out of your expertise - you had no idea about Xandarian politics or the benefits of trading with the Strixi over the Straxi - that your only option was to smile sweetly and slink away to the shadows. 

“Not having as much fun as you thought?" 

"Not really, no, Ambassador.”

“Norns, it’s Loki,” he said, exasperation seeping into his voice. “I care little for titles. Come to think of it, I do not know yours.”

You told him your name and he nodded, forehead crumpling thoughtfully. Loki stepped closer, making it easier for you to hear his soft words over the noise. “Xistea? That’s the Zosma system, correct?”

“Yeah. I have not been home for many years. You speak my language, though, so you must have been. Where did you visit?”

Loki shook his head. “My people are gifted with the Alltongue which allows us to be understood by every creature. It makes us perfect mediators and keepers of the peace.”

There was a slight bitterness to his words but you chose not to bring it up. There was a time and a place for dark histories and this was certainly not it. “The designer, earlier, he said Aesir. That is your planet?”

“It’s a people, not a place. We hail from Asgard but now reside on Midgard.” Met with your blank stare, he listed the many names of his new home (Earth, C-53, the Sol System) but you recognised none of them. 

Awkwardly curling into yourself, inadequacy rearing its head once again, you admitted, “I’ve never left this Quadrant.”

“You are not missing out on much.”

“Would you tell me about your home? What is it like?”

The music in the hall changed away from the classic Fortunan melodies into something more recognisable. You recognised the style: a dance that originated far across the galaxy but so simple that almost every species had picked it up. Loki nodded towards the orchestra and asked, “Would you care to dance?”

He gave you no time to decline, sweeping you through the crowds into the centre of the floor. His hand hovered over your back, fingers ghosting across your bare skin without ever fully touching as he guided you forward. For some reason, you missed the non-contact when his hand fell to his side. 

Maintaining a proper distance, Loki circled you and bowed. You copied the action then raised a hand which he met. As part of the larger crowd, you moved together in time to the music, following steps set centuries ago to avoid crashing into anyone else. It was fun, familiar, but every now and then you caught Loki’s gaze dropping from your face. 

“What’s so special about the Osfray token?” you asked, twirling beneath his arm. “Why are you putting up with me for it?”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

You shrugged. “I’m curious to a fault. I just want to know things. To find the truth.”

“Accumulating knowledge is one thing. Searching for the truth is an entirely different beast. It can be a harsh mistress indeed.”

“It can also be a guide to a better life. Pain fades. Enlightenment is eternal.”

His eyes grew dark for a moment, a deep pain threatening to swallow him whole. The shadows quickly faded, though, replaced by a bright green glint. “What a curious philosophy.”

The ambassador regarded you intensely and your skin physically tingled where his gaze fell. If such things were possible, you might believe that he was staring directly into your soul. Swallowing deeply, you murmured, “You are entitled to disagree if you so wish.”

Loki caught your hand and pulled you closer, until your bodies were touching. His hand slid down your back, steadying you as you started to sway to the music. The closeness was surprising and not entirely uncomfortable but you were still shocked by the break in protocol. 

You shoved him away, breathing heavily. “What are you doing?”

“Teaching you how we dance on Asgard." 

"You didn’t answer my questions. About the token. About me.”

His lips turned up in a smirk, almost impressed that you caught him mid distraction. “I did not.”

Reluctantly, you took his hand once again. This time you were prepared for the closeness and found it to be quite exciting. The intimacy of this style of dancing was quite foreign to you but as the evening progressed you grew more confident and comfortable with the ambassador. Curiously, the longer you danced, the less you cared about the answers to your questions.


	3. Chapter 3

The second day began at the rising of the suns with a ‘light’ breakfast, comprised of six courses. You chose a red outfit today: a dark asymmetric top with the flowing trousers blackened at the bottom and embroidered with gold thread to mimic the dangerous beauty of fire. Loki settled on stripped back dark trousers and a green shirt, which hung far better than the oversized armour from last night. 

After being fed you were taken on a guided tour of the city where you saw some of the oldest buildings in the Fortunan Empire. Loki translated all the information for you, throwing in a few stories of his own which, while obviously untrue, made the morning pass far more enjoyably.

Celebrations were still in full swing as the locals sung and danced and threw colour paint dust over one another. You caught clips on your holographic recorder, aware that it would never be able to capture the colour and joy of the real thing. 

Once again you joined the dances, failing to match the grace of with the intricate movements but making up for it with a bright smile and an infectious laugh. It earned you favour from some in the delegation and a few even stepped out of their comfort zone to join you in madly flailing your limbs around in time to music. 

At lunch, you were taken to a market square to sample the local street food. 

A gentle woman handed around a plate of pastry pockets. If there was a scent, it was lost to the heady concoction of sweat and incense in the air. She spoke in a rare Fortunan dialect, apparently millennia old and now only used by a tiny percentage of the population, exclusively within these city walls. As such, you had no idea what she was saying but her eyes were kind and her smile genuine. 

Around you, the many members of the delegation took timid bites of the pastry but you were more focused on Loki who finished the entire thing in a few large bites. Met with the shocked expressions of those around him, and even a small round of cheers from a passing group of local children, he merely shrugged. 

He took another from the silver plate and offered it to you. “Try it. They’re fantastic.”

“I’m not sure I want to.” You, unlike Loki, were well aware of the reactions of the other ambassadors. Some were disgusted and looked two seconds from vomiting. Those who didn’t have such a violent reaction still only managed a few bites before handing what remained to a passing Fortunan farmer (who honestly didn’t look too pleased with the offering). 

Loki stepped closer and whispered in your ear, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke. “Go on,” he goaded. “Be brave.”

Your stomach fluttered and your throat grew dry; you put it down to the thick heat of the market, not the warmth that spread over your skin as the jostling crowds pushed him against your back, and the heavy incense. “Loki…”

“I dare you.”

That was all it took, in the end. Ignoring the chorus of 'don’t do it’, you took a large bite of the pastry, surprised by the subtle flavours. The pastry was thin and flaky, crispy despite the filling. Inside, a mix of sweet vegetables and smokey meats. Light spices, crushed and whole, different to those you’d tasted on other planets but perfectly palatable. You couldn’t see why the others had reacted the way they had.

Until, suddenly, you understood all too well. 

Doubling over, you clutched your throat as you gasped for air. Every inch of your mouth was on fire, a blistering heat that rivalled Fortunan’s blazing suns. If there was a hell, it would be cold breeze compared to this. 

Only when Loki stopped laughing did he offer assistance. He produced a cup of tea, or something similar, from somewhere. You didn’t care to ask at that point, so desperate for relief from the pain that you would have drunk cattle piss if it would help. 

He rest his hand on the back of your burning throat and it you felt ice spreading through your veins. It was pain of a different kind but all the more preferable to burning from the inside out. You swore you felt his thumb brush over the light spots of the back of your neck but the chill numbed your skin too much to be sore. You were grateful either way for it soothed your throat and he held it there until your breath came easier once again. 

As you finally righted yourself, Loki brushed the tears from your cheeks and cupped your face. Telepathy was not something your species were gifted with but in that moment you could have guessed what he was thinking. Perhaps you were just fooling yourself, projecting and hoping for more from this gentle touch, but there was something here. You were sure. 

He held your gaze for a long moment before stepping away, putting a respectable distance between you. The warmth vanished from his face, replaced by a cold shell of boredom, a sharp and unnecessarily harsh attempt to remind you how much of an imposition your presence was. Arms folded over his chest, he said, “They did warn you.”

If you’d had the capability to speak, you’d have called him a bastard. 

However, a moment later, his expression softened and the facade he so heavily relied upon faltered. “You are alright? I did not know it would affect your biology that way.”

You nodded and touched his arm, mouthing, I’ll be fine.

Loki covered your hand with his before letting it drop and walking away to catch the rest of the delegation. 

The day progressed with a special performance of a renowned Fortunan opera which detailed the very first king’s rise to power. It held your interest for a few hours but the complex melodies, extravagant costumes and challenging choreographies eventually grew dull. 

Thankfully, Loki noticed your lack of interest and took it upon himself to keep you awake. He satisfied your curiosity for information about other delegations with gossip and rumours about the foreign ambassadors. How much of it was lies was anyone’s guess but you enjoyed his outlandish tales and snide remarks. 

You were mesmerised by the roguish glint in his eyes, mischievous and alert and far more than a trick of stage lights as they hit his face, highlighting his features in a way you’d never seen before. His dark hair fell loose around his jaw, intricately braids capturing your attention - and imagination as you pictured running your fingers through the black locks. 

After a twelve course dinner, Loki excused you from the evening’s talks. You were grateful; it had been a long day and you had little interest in the schemings of ambassadors desperate to earn themselves a lucrative trade contract. That was far from your idea of fun conversation so happily allowed one of the guards to escort you back to your shared quarters.

Much of the evening was passed in the company of a fascinating book, a collection of local fairy tales about giants which held up the skies and magical creatures that guided the early Fortunans to great victories over their enemies. No doubt they were nothing but stories however you relished the challenge of coming up with possible explanations for the occurences, spending hours scouring other resources to seek a match for known species in the quadrant with the ancient legends. 

When the moon was at its highest, a wonderful display of fireworks lit up the sky. You dragged your chair out onto the balcony for a better view and sat back to watch the bright colours raining down over the city. 

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” you asked, catching sight of Loki watching you from a nearby column. You hadn’t heard him entre but you weren’t surprised; with the noise from above, you could hardly hear yourself think, let alone the near silent opening of the door. 

Loki hummed, unconvinced. “I’ve seen better.”

“Perhaps if you focused on them instead of me you might see their beauty.”

“Aren’t you cold?”

You shook your head at the surprising question. “No. Xistea is tundra for half the cycle so my body is well equipped to deal with this sort of weather. I actually thought it was rather warm, honestly. You left early. I didn’t expect to see you before I went to sleep.”

“What? No, I’m still at the trade talks. This is an illusion. A projection of my body.”

“You possess magic?” He nodded, regarding you cagily. Whatever response he was expecting, it wasn’t for you to jump up in excitement and exclaim, “That is so cool!”

Circling the illusion, you searched for any visible sign that it wasn’t actually Loki. On the surface, there were none. From his near ever presence smirk to the twinkle in his eyes, the creases on his clothes and the shine on his boots, the projection was completely perfect. 

However, up close, you could tell instantly that it wasn’t real. He had no scent. Xistea had an incredibly astute sense of smell; every member of your species created unique pheromones which could be detected up to a mile away, if you concentrated. Other species had certain smells - Fortunans, for example, had a general floral air, tinged with a metallic undertone - and while you couldn’t identify the specific person from their smell you were always aware of it. 

Loki possessed an odd scent, unlike anything you’d ever come across. Peculiarly, it changed, shifted with his mood as if there were more than one side of him. Sometimes it was deep and earthy, like damp tree bark or freshly turned soil. Other times, it was lighter like fresh fruit on a summer day. And every once in a while, he smelt like the wind over a water ocean, but you’d only caught that specific note a few times when he let down his guard and relaxed. Strange indeed.

More than that, though, it was a feeling deep in your heart that this was just an imitation. You couldn’t explain it. All you knew was that this wasn’t the man you were coming to know. You lifted a hand to touch his face, the hairs on the back of your hand standing as you got closer, but he stepped away before you could. 

“It will fade if you touch it.”

“Would it hurt you?" 

"What?”

“If I touched the illusion? They are projections, extensions, of yourself. Do you feel a shadow of what they might?”

“They feel nothing.”

“But do you? If I were to, say, stab it in the heart,” you said, taking a step closer. “Would you feel that? Would it kill you?”

“If you are hoping to end my life, you’ll need to find another way.”

You smiled, taking another step forward. You were in the space of the illusion again, sensing the tangible change to the air around it. Slowly, you lifted your hand to his face once again, hovering it just above his cheek. “Can you feel that?”

“No,” he said stiffly. 

Over the past days, you’d quickly learned that Loki lied so easily that it was almost impossible to tell when he was lying. Right now, though, you were certain he was. You didn’t push it, though. “Thank you for coming to check on me.”

“I’m merely making certain that you haven’t run away with the Osfray token.”

“Goodnight, Loki,” you said, touching his cheek. For a brief moment, you felt a warmth beneath your palm before the image of him faded and you were alone once again.


	4. Chapter 4

Of everything on the itinerary, the Fortunan Grand Temple was one of the most exciting visits. You never would have gotten near it as a simple foreigner. Even getting there as part of a diplomatic entourage was quite the journey. 

Before the sun had risen, when the sky was still dark and the stars twinkled above your head, you were woken by a courtier and taken to a golden carriage in the square. There were no creatures to pull the carriage, no traditional engine to make them go. You weren’t certain how exactly they moved but you heard talk from others in the tour group that they ran on lines of power in the ground, streams of energy powered by the belief of Fortunans across the galaxy. 

The carriage itself was exquisite. It was crafted from dark red wood from the balya tree, grown in the sacred forests by the small religious order on Fortuna Beta. The trees there reached incredible sizes, the oldest of which measured over a thousand feet tall. Only the wisest and most devout leaders were permitted to visit that particular part of the forest but the outer growths were cut down and shipped out across the empire to furnish the grandest halls of the colonies. 

You ran your fingers over the intricate carvings that lined the doors, recognising them as ancient symbols from the scrolls you’d read the night before. Each was edged in gold that glittered in the starlight. There was a subtle power to them, as if they were vibrating beneath your touch. 

“Loki,” you whispered, completely ignoring the official’s briefing. “Can you feel that?”

His fingers brushed past yours, an entirely different wave of power flooding through your veins. Loki traced a few of the runes, the tips of his fingers glowing green. A spark flew between him and the carriage causing him to jolt back, a fascinated smirk on his face. “The wood is imbued with magic of the oldest kind.”

He pressed his fingers on another rune, the same lightening sparking. Sounding far too pleased, Loki said, “Oh, it doesn’t like me at all.”

“What do you mean?”

“Come here.” Loki stepped aside to make room for you then wrapped his body around you, guiding your arms and hands with his like a master puppeteer. His breath on your neck was warm, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke in a low tone. Moving your fingers over a star shaped rune, he murmured, “You felt the vibration. That’s the magic. It’s practically alive. When I add mine to the mix -" 

You felt the buzz of his magic run through your body and then the sharp shock you’d seen before. "It fights back,” Loki finished. “It considers me a threat.”

“Are you?”

A hint of bitterness in his voice, Loki stepped away and sighed, “That depends on who you ask.”

The journey to Fortuna Main’s Grand Temple was a long one. You and Loki rode near the back of the delegation, obviously considered less important than the other ambassadors. If it bothered Loki, he didn’t show it. 

The ride was perfectly smooth, even when you travelled over the rough, back roads that led away from the city. The plush seats and dehumidifier made it a comfortable trip that passed quickly, no doubt assisted by Loki’s good company. 

All conversation quickly dried up as you approached the temple. As you crossed a crystal clear lake, the carriage floating a few inches above the surface, you passed fish with rainbow scales and all manner of strange creatures that moved through the current with graceful majesty. You leaned over to the window and stretched a hand out to feel the cool liquid on your skin.

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you,” Loki said, catching your wrist just in time. He pulled you back inside, a hint of disappointment flashing across his eyes. 

“Why not?” Your mind was racing, imagining the worst case scenarios. The liquid was toxic to Xistea biology. It was enchanted with magic that would burn the flesh off a faithless intruder. The beautiful fish would bite off your fingers. The potential horrors were endless. 

However, Loki was quick to ease your mind. With a simple shrug, he said, “This is a sacred place. It’s best just not to touch anything and upset the powers that live here.” Seeming picking up on your frown, he asked, “Do you not have religion on Xistea?”

“There are beliefs that explain the formation of our planet and peoples but there is no higher power or reasoning to our existence. My people simply believe in balance. We look after our surroundings and they look after us. Do you have religion on Asgard?”

“There are the Norns. Women who control destiny and guard Yggdrasil - the tree which joins together the realms. They are not gods but they are highly respected by my people.”

“Are they real?”

Loki laughed quietly. “Their influence feels real. Sometimes that is enough.”

The carriage jolted as it moved back onto land and you soon found yourself inside the grand temple. You stepped out of the carriage and took in the mind-blowing beauty of the place. Stone pillars, perfectly smooth, decorated with trierium that cast glittering shadows in an intricate pattern on the tiled floor, stood proudly around you. They were so high that they almost seemed to be holding up the sky. 

As you moved further inwards, the temple grew even more impressive. Intricately woven tapestries depicted stories of the Fortunan gods in a battle for supremacy over the world, pathing the way for the peace and prosperity that had reigned for tens of thousands of years since. 

Your guide shared many facts with the group, switching between dialects from all across the quadrant so that all the delegates could understand - all, save for you. You relied on Loki’s translations but he soon grew bored with the exaggerated history and unlikely tales. 

He slipped an arm around your waist and guided you towards a small passage. You hadn’t noticed it before and wondered whether that was by design or your own lack of attention. He pulled you into the tight gap, waiting for the others to move on so you could explore together without being babysat by the tight faced officials. 

In the narrow passage, your chests were practically touching, every breath shared. It was exhilarating and not just because of the trouble you would get into if you were found sneaking around their most sacred temple unsupervised. 

“Won’t they notice we’re gone?”

Loki shook his head. “They’ll be too lost in the wonder of the place to notice us gone.”

“Couldn’t you use your projections? Create an illusion of us?”

“That would require significant and sustained magic use. Added to which the Fortunan magic would fight mine and shatter whatever illusions I created. And remember that this is a sacred place. While I am content to step away from the guided path, I draw the line at actively disrespecting the spirits that reside here. ”

“But what if they catch us?”

“What if they don’t?” he grinned. “The thrill is half of the fun. Now, come with me.”

You wove through the temple, quickly getting lost in the labyrinth of golden gilded hallways and courtyards that reflected the beautiful rising suns above. Soon, when the sky had turned a beautiful pink, you stumbled across a small fountain. Although, stumbled may not have been the right word. From Loki’s grin, it was clear that this had always been his desired destination. 

“What is that?”

“The source of their magic. Can’t you feel it?” He spun around, his arms stretched out dramatically as he twirled. “It’s everywhere. This is fantastic.”

He bowed towards the fountain and with surprising sincerity uttered, “You are incredible.”

Then he turned to you, his grin growing wider and beckoned you closer. You were unable to sense what he did but were swept away in his joy. You’d never seen Loki this way, filled with a childlike glee. He circled the fountain, running his hand over the runs inscribed in the stone. Murmuring the prayer written in the ancient language, the liquid in the fountain shimmered green and when he met your gaze Loki was practically incandescent. 

“Join me,” he said, offering out his hand. “It’s okay. We’re welcome here.”

You anxiously took a seat on the ground beside the fountain, a warm current of air encompassing you. The rising suns in the sky shone brighter than before, the air was crisper against your skin. With the gentle pink tones lighting his face, Loki was more beautiful than ever. 

He joined you on the ground, his arm a comfortable weight around your shoulders as he pulled you against his side. His scent was stronger than ever. That light fruitiness you only caught when his guard was down now sat at the forefront of his essence. You felt it too; a sense of utter peacefulness. 

This was unlike anything you’d experienced in years of travelling, a moment you knew you’d remember vividly for the rest of your life. 

Loki teased twisting patterns across your skin, soon slipping beneath the chain of your necklace. He seemed unaware of how he tugged on the chain, the cool metal digging into your neck as he twirled it around his fingers. 

Turning towards him, you covered his fingers with yours and freed the chain from his grip. “What is so important about this token, Loki?”

A brief coldness flickered across his expression before vanishing. A trick of the light, perhaps, but you weren’t convinced. He flashed you a blinding smile, fingers still drawing patterns up your neck. As he followed the line of spots across your skin, up along your jaw, he leaned in closer and muttered, “It isn’t important.”

“I want to know.”

“No, you don’t.”

Your chest tightened as he closed the gap to nothing more than a breath. He cupped your cheek and brushed his lips over yours, soft and gentle, testing your response. You felt him smile as you returned the kiss, needing more than this teasingly brief connection. 

Responding in kind, Loki deepened the kiss and you gave yourself entirely, losing yourself to the feeling of him. When you finally pulled back for air, you could still taste him on your tongue. Unable to stop from smiling, that incredible floating feeling quickly vanished. You crashed down from your high when Loki was unable to meet your gaze. 

He stood, dusted himself off and began walking away without looking back. “We should go. The tour is almost over.”

“Loki…”

“Later. Come. We must beat them back to the carriages or they’ll know we snuck away.”

Scuttling to your feet, you hurried after Loki. Sparing the fountain a final look, you were saddened to see it had lost its green shimmer. You paused at the door to ask it for advice, to understand what had just happened between you and the ambassador but it withheld its answers and left you as confused as before.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains threats of violence and sexual violence towards the reader but nothing comes of it. Loki steps in and saves them from the brute in question.

_Indisposed at the trade talks. Your presence is not required. Stay here. Try not to cause too much trouble._

You stared down at the beautifully neat text, a pain in your heart. You'd found the note on your pillow when you woke this morning and quickly realised that the room was empty. You supposed that you could read it as Loki choosing to let you rest, to recover from the busy few days you'd had and sneaking away while you slept was a generous gift. 

You knew better though. He'd crept away to give himself space, to avoid talking about yesterday's kiss. Really, you shouldn't have expected anything else. He hadn't so much as glanced your way for longer than a few seconds since your return from the temple so of course he wouldn't commit anything to words. 

Crumpling the note up, you tossed it in the bin. You wouldn't let this bother you. It was silly to expect anything serious to come from this anyway. A business deal, that's all this was. A contract with Loki, an invitation to stay here for the festival in return for the Osfray token. 

If you reminded yourself often enough, then these feelings would disappear. You could enjoy Loki's company without yearning for more. When you thought about it, you weren't at all suited for each other anyway. He was an ambassador from a thriving kingdom far away, accustomed to luxury. You were nothing more than a traveller, a scavenger doing your best to get by. 

So what if he made you laugh or if his fingers on your skin felt like a million tiny supernovas. The way his smile lifted your spirits and left you flying meant nothing. It didn't matter at all that when you looked into his eyes you saw a man who was deeply broken and alone, searching for a connection but scared to truly solidify it, reaching out for your company. 

This was your lonely mind weaving a fantasy, aided by the gorgeous sights and stunning dresses. A fairytale of your own making and it would stop right this second. 

Head held high, you chose your outfit for the day - a shiny silver dress with a bodice crusted with thousands of tiny emeralds - and decided to explore. You had travelled alone for long enough to find solace in your own company, to block out the rest of your troubles and focus on the present. That was exactly what you planned to do today. 

You opened the grand door and walked straight into the back of a guard. He stared down at you, fingers twitching by his side. "You are not permitted to leave."

"Under whose orders?"

"The Ambassador."

You shook your head angrily and tried to plead with the large man despite knowing deep down that it would get you nowhere. "Look here, sir. I am a guest at the palace and have been extended the same invitations as the ambassador. I have every right to leave this room."

He reached into his pocket and you tensed, not prepared to face down a weapon. Yes, you wanted to explore - and to go against Loki's orders to stay put; honestly, the nerve of the man, telling you to stay put like some kind of pet - but you weren't willing to risk your life. 

Thankfully, all the guard produced was another folded piece of paper. "He asked me to give you this, should you attempt to leave."

_I expected more of you than simply walking out the front door. Try not to kill yourself if you go over the balcony._

You tore the note into tiny pieces and threw your hands hopelessly in the air, the tiny pieces of parchment raining down on you. "I guess I'll stay inside then."

The guard merely grunted in acknowledgement, waiting until the door was closed to turn his back. As it clicked shut, you fought back a scream of frustration. Was this some kind of game? What did Loki really expect you to do? And why keep you trapped in here anyway? How much damage could you do to the trade talks by walking around the empty hallways?

Annoying as it was to admit, Loki had been right. The only other visible exit route was to climb over the balcony onto another floor. Too high to risk the fall, you were fairly motivated to find another way out. Thankfully, you had an idea. 

Spurred on by the challenge, you pressed your palms against the walls, fingers splayed, and traversed the room. You'd worked in palaces like this before; they always had servant doors in every room to allow the cleaner in and out without being seen by the important guests. All you had to do was find it and you'd have your way out. 

Leaving no inch of the wall unchecked, you soon stumbled across the variation you were looking for. A small crack, imperceptible unless specifically searched for. You shoved the empty space with all your weight, a gust of air circling your feet as the latched opened. Take that, Loki. 

The passage was like every other hallway on Fortuna Main, made of a light marble stone and suitably decorated with proud portraits of historical leaders. It was immaculately clean, incredibly well lit and, quite helpfully for unwelcome intruders, signposted. Even better, the signs were in the quadrant standard language so you could actually read them as well. 

Following the sign for the library, you barely made it a floor down before you bumped into a courtier. She took one look at your clothes and, mistaking you for an official, fell to a knee and thumped her left hand against her right shoulder twice in a sign of respect. 

"Please, you don't need to do that," you said, offering her a hand back to her feet. 

"You cannot be in here, Ambassador."

It took you a moment to realise that she had responded in your own language. You'd gotten so used to Loki being able to understand that you'd slipped back into your natural tongue without realising most on Fortuna Main would have no knowledge of its existence. However, the courtier spoke it with ease. Her strong accent and familiar scent placed her on a colony in the Zosma system, not far from your homeworld. 

Not wanting to get a fellow Zosmarin in trouble, you nodded and said, "I'm looking for the library."

"I can take you."

As you walked, curiosity got the better of you. Catching a glimpse of the marks on her arm, similar to the ones on your neck, you realised that not only was she from the same planetary system as you but also your sister species. That would be why her scent filled you with such peace. You were, give or take a few million years of evolution, practically related. 

"What are you going so far from Zosma?" you asked. 

"I grew tired of life in Yggere. I jumped on a ship, travelled around for a while and eventually settled here."

"You like it here?"

"Very much," she smiled. "My wife and I have three beautiful children and life is good here. The Fortunans have been most welcoming. You're Xistean, right? Do you miss your home?"

You thought about it for a moment. There were times when you missed the bright sunsets and longed for the taste of the glacier water, dreamt of the harvest festivals and the first drops of snow. But there was so much more in the universe to see. "Not really."

"I am not surprised, what with your new love to keep you away."

Your head whipped around so fast that your neck twinged in pain. "I beg your pardon."

"Is that not the word? I can see from your chest, the bright light, the warmth, the connection to another. Your heart sings for another." Sensing your unease, she shoved her hands in her pockets and apologised. "It is not my place to speak of that, I am sorry. Enjoy your day, Ambassador. Good fortune to you."

You stepped out into the library, the hidden door disappearing the moment it closed. You mindlessly pulled a scroll from a nearby shelf and found a seat by the window, under the bright pink suns, not really taking in any of the words as you stared at the parchment. 

Hours must have passed when you were jolted from your thoughts by a shadow over your scrolls. You stared up at the intruder, a pale skinned Tepatian; a species from a nearby planet who had survived their home's devastation by turning themselves into cyborgs. His robotic middle eye never blinked as he stared at you, his face twisting in a way you supposed was meant to convey a smile. 

He didn't wait for an invitation to join you, simply sat beside you with a distinct disregard for personal space. His odour was overwhelming. Putrid. You instinctively leaned away, squashing yourself into the corner of the seat. The minuscule change in distance did little to diminish his acrid scent. 

"What are you reading?" he asked, shuffling close enough to see for himself. "Ah, Fortunan scrolls. You know a lot of people get lost in the language. I can explain it to you, if you need help."

"I am perfectly capable of understanding them myself, thank you."

Oblivious to your signals, he continued, "So, how long are you here for?"

"A few days," you said through gritted teeth. Why wouldn't he just leave you alone already? 

"You're with the Asgardian, aren't you? I've seen you around in these pretty costumes. Heard whispers about you. His little plaything."

That discomfort you'd been feeling suddenly ramped up to panic. This was not good at all. The library was practically empty and those who were close enough to see you had chosen to turn away and ignore your unease. Heart beating faster, you breathed, "Please leave me alone."

You closed your eyes and swallowed deeply as his hand fell on your thigh. The sharp metal claws on the end of his fingers teased the slit in the dress, scraping lightly over your flesh. It took every inch of your self control not to scream for help. You could see it in his eyes; that was exactly what he wanted. This was a man who thrived on others' fear. You refused to play that game, but knew deep down that it was already too late to step away. 

"I need to be somewhere else," you muttered. _Anywhere else._

"Stick around. I'm sure it can wait."

"It really can't."

The Tepatian shrugged. He let you stand up and head towards the door but apparently a few steps was all the head start you were permitted. He quickly rose to his feet and followed you, grabbing your elbow and diverting you off course to a dark corner of the library. "Be quiet. Don't cause a scene or I'll make it worse for you."

"Get off me!" You ducked out of his grip, not quite smoothly enough to avoid his sharp talons. You hissed at the burn as they clawed at your flesh, leaving a deep gash in your arm. Fear numbed you to the true pain as you sprinted out the library into the main hall, desperately searching for anyone who might help. There was no one. 

The Tepatian's heavy footsteps sounded behind you, a constant beat as he strolled casually after you. You skidded around a corner, only to find it a dead end. Before you could turn back, he was there, blocking your escape, grinning viciously at you whimpers. "As much as I enjoy the chase, I shall take what I want now."

"No, please…" You backed up against the wall, desperately searching for another secret door but finding none. "Stop, please…"

He took another step closer, eyes burning with darkness, when he suddenly stopped and whipped his head around to see - Loki! 

The ambassador stood proudly, unafraid, and said, "The lady said no. It would be best if you left now."

"Ah, her master," the Tepatian said with a grin. He gave a mock bow, feigning civility as if he hadn't been about to snatch you for his bed in broad daylight. "How much for her? Do you like to watch?"

Loki was not fooled by his attempt at raport. "Leave now before I make you."

Against anyone else, you might have favoured Loki's chances. You suspected that he would be merciless in a scrappy fight, that he probably had formal training of some kind, but against a man more than twice his size… Even with his magic, you feared for his success. 

The Tepatian was clearly thinking along similar lines. With a wicked grin, he said, "Your threats might intimidate your lessers, Asgardian, but I am superior to you in every way. Hand her over to me and I will recompense you for any damage. Refuse me and you shall share her pain."

In an incredible show of bravery, intentional or not, Loki actually yawned. "Are you finished?"

He slipped past the Tepatian, putting himself between you and the brute. Reaching back, he found your hand and squeezed it comfortingly, although it did little to reassure you. Things were looking bad and the darkening of the Tepatian's third eye could only be a bad sign. 

Your attention was drawn to Loki's other hand, which shimmered as he summoned a dagger into existence. Now that was an impressive trick. His posture didn't change and Loki made no show of having gained a higher ground as he warned, "This is your last warning."

Clearly believing the odds were in his favour, the Tepatian charged towards you but Loki had his dagger in the brute's gut before he managed even one step. He fell to his knees as Loki twisted the blade, gasping for breath. 

"If you so much as look at her again," Loki hissed, crouching down above him with a terrifying glint in his eye. You hoped to never be on the receiving end of that look. "I will kill you."

Loki pulled the dagger free from his gut and wiped it on his sleeve, lips tightly pressed together in distaste for the mess. He took your hand and pulled you behind him, leaving the Tepatian bleeding out on the floor. 

"Shouldn't we… Tell someone? Get him help?"

"They know already. Surveillance on Fortuna is some of the best in the quadrant. They'll send someone to clean up the mess." You shot him a sharp glance and Loki was quick to assure you, "Don't worry about me. They saw that he came at you first. I would escape repercussions even if I wasn't a diplomat."

"Would you have killed him if they hadn't been watching?"

"Without a second thought. Are you cold?"

You looked down at your hands to find them trembling. Loki pulled the dark jacket from his shoulders and wrapped it around your shoulders, smiling at the stark contrast of his old, worn jacket against the shining Fortunan dress.

He led you back to your shared suite and sat you down on the balcony, beneath the warm suns. Tugging on the lapels of his jacket, tightening it around you, he said softly, "I must attend to something."

Panic flooded through you over being left alone. Loki sensed it immediately and pressed a kiss to your forehead. The soft brush of his lips across your skin brought a moment of peace, a temporary relief from the fear that now consumed you. "I shall only be an hour. The guard on the door will protect you."

That hardly inspired confidence, given that he hadn't noticed you sneaking out in the first place. Once again, Loki noticed your nerves and his eyes flickered shut as his hands started to glow green. Your body tingled as a wave of magic extended throughout the room. 

"It will alert me if you are in danger. Now, rest." Loki touched your cheek, a wave of sleepiness flowing over your mind. He was responsible, you had no doubt, but couldn't find it in your heart to be angry. His voice was soft, smooth, reassuring. "You are safe here. You have my word. No harm will come to you now."

You didn't often take people for their words but you wanted to believe Loki. You closed your eyes and tried to forget the events of the morning, another soft kiss on your forehead sending you into the realm of dreams with a fragile smile on your face.


	6. Chapter 6

Your muscles sighed in contentment as the warm water drew away the tension of the day. It had been so long since you’d bathed - you had showered, of course, but they were cold, short and functional, in the underbelly of depressingly dank starships - which made the whole experience so much more pleasurable. 

The scent of sundrop lilies hung lightly in the air, sweet and crisp like the soft purple petals that decorated the edge of the enormous bath tub. The lava salt candles burned gently around you, the shimmering smoke they produced doing wonders for your system. When Loki had returned from the market with these goods imported from your home world you had almost cried. 

He had been incredibly patient with you all evening, given you time and space to process what had happened with the Tepatian. All the while, he’d pushed you to keep busy, to eat and wash and not let the incident ruin your trip. It was exactly what you needed, a little force to shake you out of your thoughts, to stop you from spiralling into dark places where he couldn’t follow. 

A soft knock on the door pulled you from your blissful meditative state. Anger bubbled up in your chest but you quashed it immediately. You didn’t have the energy to maintain those negative emotions. The candles were clearly doing their job: purging your mind, body and soul of the blackness that ate people up from the inside, replacing the darkness with a light that left you floating in a comfortable, peaceful state. 

“Yes?”

“I wish to enter,” Loki called. 

“By all means." 

The thick layer of colourful bubbles atop the water protected your modesty, so you had no concerns over his intrusion. Regardless of your complicated emotions for the ambassador, you were glad for Loki’s company. He made you feel safe, cared for. Whether he acknowledged it or not, there was a connection between you. It had already driven him to stab another delegate to protect you. If nothing came of it, you would savour these moments together. 

Perched on the stone lip of the tub, oblivious to your thoughts, Loki asked, "The bath is to your satisfaction?”

“It’s perfect." 

In the soft candle light, shadows fell over Loki’s face, exposing the deep lines around his eyes. His skin was pale, lacking any real colour or spark of life. He held himself stiffly, stress and exhaustion rolling from him in waves. You wondered how long it had been since he truly slept; he certainly hadn’t while you were here. 

Drawing your legs up to make space, you said, "Why don’t you step in and try it for yourself? Might help you relax a little.”

Loki held your gaze for a long moment, lips twitching up at the corner as he made his decision. Much to your surprise, he began to strip. Deliberately taking it slow, the smug bastard putting on a show for you, he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a surprisingly toned torso. You had an insatiable desire to trace the defined lines of his abs, to kiss each and every scar that littered his body. 

Your cheeks burned as he stepped out of his trousers and you literally ducked under the water as he removed his underwear, too awkward to watch him walk naked into the bath. You pushed your damp hair from your eyes as you re-emerged, met by a huge grin. You kicked him, the impact lessened considerably by the drag of the water, and stretched out your legs beside him. 

“It’s cooler than I expected,” Loki said, hand slipping beneath the water to your leg. He drew his fingers over your skin, circling your ankle bone and very consciously drawing slow patterns up your lower leg. Even underwater, each touch ignited a spark inside you. 

“Tundra world, remember? I’m used to much colder. This is practically a sauna." 

You leaned against the edge of the tub, head falling back as you focused on the feeling of Loki’s fingers on your skin. It was so relaxing, so casually intimate that it was hard to remember you’d only known him a few days. Eyes flickering shut, you asked, "Am I allowed to ask how are the negotiations going? Are you happy with what is being decided?”

Loki’s fingers stopped moving for a moment before continuing as if nothing had happened. “No doubt my brother will be pleased with the outcome. Earth provides the bare necessities for our people but he will certainly be glad to be the king to guide them back to our place on the intergalactic stage.”

“Your brother? He is the king of Asgard?”

“Indeed.”

“So you’re a prince as well as an ambassador?”

“I do not care for -”

“For titles, I know. Are you happy?”

Loki frowned, his fingers stalling once again. “Excuse me?”

You ran your hands through the mountain of bubbles, unable to meet his intense gaze. “I asked about you, not your brother. I don’t really care whether he is happy about your progress. Are you?”

“I… I suppose that I am content with the fruits of my negotiations.”

“And in general? Do you enjoy being an ambassador? Or would you rather stay with your people? I looked it up; Earth is thousands of lightyears from here. Do you miss them?”

You finally gathered the courage to meet his gaze, only to find it in his lap. Clearly this was a difficult subject for him to talk about and you almost regretted bringing it up until he answered, “I appreciate the freedom. I prefer this work to slunking around that awful village." 

Loki eyed you, a small smile playing on his lips. "The company here is infinitely more pleasant, too.”

“Charmer.”

“I speak only the truth.”

You laughed, well aware that practically every word that fell from Loki’s lips was actually a lie. Rarely malicious, more for his own entertainment and as a judgement to whittle away those incapable of keeping up with his quick mind and sharp tongue, but still a lie.

However, when he leaned forward and found your hand beneath the bubbles, you realised that this was not one of those times. He was deadly serious. 

“Loki, about what happened at the fountain yesterday…”

“I do not regret it.”

“No, please, I think…” Your thoughts crashed to a halt as you replayed his words in your mind. After his dogged determination not to talk about it, to barely even acknowledge what had occurred, this sudden admission threw you completely. “I’m sorry, what?”

Loki pulled you towards him with such force that you had to steady yourself with a hand on his chest. You felt his breathing change with your sudden closeness and he dug his fingers lightly into your waist, as if he were scared you might pull away. A pointless worry; you had no intention of doing such a thing. 

“I wasn’t caught up in the moment. I wasn’t dizzy on the fountain’s magic. I have no excuse. The only enchantment I am under is yours. If you’d rather forget it then so be it.”

“I don’t want to forget it, Loki. Not for as long as I live.”

He looked up at you with wonder in his eyes, as if seeing you for the first time. Loki brushed the hair from your shoulder, admiring the spots on your neck. You trembled beneath his touch, eyes flickering to his mouth. 

Taking the hint, Loki brought his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. You savoured the sweet taste of his lips as he peppered kisses along your jaw, down your neck and collarbone, slowly drawing the breath from your lungs. You sighed contently as he lifted you into his lap, tearing down each and every one of your defences with an onslaught of delicate touches until you were a writhing mess in his hands.


	7. Chapter 7

"I asked around about the Osfray Token. Tried to find mention of it in the scrolls but no one seems to have heard of such a thing.“

Loki’s hand stiffened in yours, his entire body growing tense as he slowed beneath the thick tree cover. "Must you ruin a lovely day?”

Initially, you’d thought his hesitation to speak about the token stemmed from some awful secret. You’d feared that perhaps it was a stolen relic or that it had some kind of military purpose. That was why you’d looked it up, searched everywhere you could for details on its composition. All you had discovered was that the gem was a rare mineral called boraselolite but could find no mention as to why that might mean anything. 

The same had happened when you first won the token on Kitson. With no reason to believe it was anything other than a beautiful necklace, your life had continued as normal. However, ever since you’d learned of Loki’s intense interest in the token, you hadn’t been able to shake the curiosity. It was a curse of the Xistea mind, and yours in particular. Once a thought was there, it was not easily forgotten. 

“Turn off your inquisitive mind for once,” Loki said, practically begging you to let it go. He knew, too, that this conversation would change things. Whatever this was between you, the spark, the connection, would fundamentally shift if he revealed the truth. It would taint what had been a truly incredible week and neither of you wanted that. But you both also knew that emotions would turn sour if he left you without an explanation for much longer. 

He cupped your face, his long fingers caressing your skin, turning your face up to his, towards the bright light of the distant suns. You felt the tingle in your mind, the oh so tempting suggestion to let it go, to enjoy the day without worrying about it. His magic eased your fears, softened your resolve. “Please, don’t spoil this.”

“Loki…”

“Fine,” he sighed, stepping away. He dragged his fingers through his hair, the dark locks falling across his face. Loki didn’t push them aside as he sat at the base of a fat tree, a large red balya tree. The entire forest, technically off limits to visitors, was filled with them and they called out to Loki, magic seeking magic. 

You sat beside him, gathering the emerald fabric of your skirt in your hand and curling your legs up beneath you. The forest floor was soft, almost springy, and the air was crisp. The wind swirled lightly around you, a gentle melody reminiscent of the traditional songs that the locals had sung on that very first day of the celebrations. 

Loki kept his gaze locked on the distance and you had the odd feeling of being alone here. Yes, he was present beside you but his mind? That was somewhere far away, perhaps another world entirely. You lightly touched his knee, drawing him back to you. 

"It’s okay,“ you muttered, although you were far from sure. "You can speak freely with me, Loki.”

“Some words are not so easy to voice.”

He caught a leaf as it floated peacefully down to the ground, the thin veins shimmering green as he pushed his magic through it. The leaf curled in on itself and nothing happened for a few seconds. Loki’s expression fell further but then the leaf took on an orange shimmer and burst open, shifting into a bright flower.

The petals were beautiful, white with green and orange tips that shimmered in the afternoon sunlight. Loki stroked the petals gently with his thumb, each stroke easing a little of the tension in his shoulders. Obviously Fortuna’s spirits hated seeing him torn up as much as you. Far from adept at sensing their magic, you smiled to the ground and hoped that they could feel your gratitude. 

Whatever magic the planet had imbued the flower with calmed Loki enough for him to turn to you. The peaceful smile was a mask, though. Beneath that you could see the anguish in his eyes, the tremble of his lower lip. The facade to which he clung so tightly finally shattered. He clenched his hands tightly then released the rage, repeating a few times before he breathed, “You recall what I told you of my people.”

“The Aesir. Asgardians. You moved to Earth.”

Loki nodded sharply. “We did not do so out of choice. Did word of the mad Titan Thanos reach this quadrant?”

The name sent a chill down your spine. Little was known about the Titan. At the time, all you’d known was that half the population of the Quadrant had vanished, turned to ash and blown away on the wind. You hadn’t dared to return to Xistea for fear of what you would - or wouldn’t - find. It was only last year you finally contacted home to speak to your family and you all pointedly avoided mentioning those tough years. 

An explanation came, two years after the initial event, from a Protector, a shining woman from far away. She had travelled the universe to explain and assist the best she could before passing on, desperate to help all she could. Her words were spread around but had, over time, become laced with lies and falsities until fact and fiction were so woven together that you could not tell one from the other. Every person’s recollection differed but his name, Thanos, remained constant in every version. 

“Those were difficult times.”

A harsh laugh fell from Loki’s lips and the flower in palm withered at the sound. “You don’t know the half of it. One of the Infinity Stones was under the protection of Asgard. Thanos boarded our refugee ship and slaughtered half of our people. My brother and I watched, helpless, as he coated the deck in the blood of innocents. He very nearly succeeded in killing me too." 

Loki touched his neck, seemingly unaware of the action. You reached across and took his hand in yours, his skin comfortably warm against yours. There were no words to express your condolences. You couldn’t imagine how that must have scarred him. As you squeezed his hand, two particular words flagged in your mind. "Refugee ship?”

“Asgard was once a magnificent kingdom, home to golden halls and the most incredible mountains. However, it was never destined to last. My home was destroyed, sacrificed in order to stop my sister from conquering the other realms.” Loki’s lips twitched up in a bitter smirk. “My family has a complicated history.”

“Oh, Loki.”

“Save your sorrows for we haven’t even reached the Osfray Token yet.”

Mention of the token jolted you out from your sympathies. You’d almost forgotten about the blasted thing in wake of learning about Loki’s awful history. To think that there could be more to it was just heartbreaking. The darkness through which he’d suffered must weigh him down every single day. The very fact that he was able to talk about it showed that Loki had strength even more than you knew, that he was one of the strongest, bravest men you had ever met.

All you could do was sit and listen, try to hold it together for his sake, as he continued. “Not five years previous to Ragnarok - the desolation of my home - Asgard was invaded by the Dark Elves. They sought another of the Infinity Stones, awoken by a mortal who happened to be involved with my brother. During their attack, my mother gave her life to protect the mortal.”

Your heart wretched in your chest. How could one family possess such tremendously bad fortune? “I’m so sorry you had to see that, Loki.”

“That’s what is worst,” Loki said softly. His fingers slipped free of yours and fell to the ground. He clawed at the dirt as if he might find some peace buried beneath until the now familiar orange glow surrounded his hand, Fortuna’s spirits easing his pain the best they could. 

Wiping his hands on his dark trousers, Loki picked the dirt from beneath his nails. Focusing on that task made it easier to divulge the rest of his tale. His words were sharp, well chosen and to the point, recounting the events with a cool disconnect rather than reliving them, but his voice still quivered as the weight of his mistakes crushed his chest. “I wasn’t there to see it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I was locked in the palace cells, serving out an eternal punishment. I did not realise that the brute I saw would kill her. I was hopeless to save her. I was not even permitted to attend her funeral. Oh, I heard the horns and trumpets. I felt the grief of my people ripple through the ether. I felt the universe grow cold as her spirit passed onward to the next world.”

Suddenly something clicked in your mind and everything became a little clearer. What was left of your heart shattered for Loki as you considered what he’d lost and the goodbye that he’d been robbed of. Of course, everyone had suffered during the aftermath of Thanos’s attempt to ‘balance’ the universe but families were eventually reunited. The stolen goodbyes were replaced by joyous reunions, damage done but nothing truly lost. For Loki, though, there had been no second chance.

“The Token… It will help you to see her somehow? Speak to your mother again?”

He nodded, hopeful desperation in his eyes. “There are stories that, when taken to a tear in space, an Osfray Token will open a gate through which the souls of those passed may return.”

“Do you truly believe that the stories are true? I understand that you and your people hold certain beliefs, that knowing there is some life after death brings you peace but Loki…”

“Don’t spoil it.” Loki closed his eyes as his hand found yours, fingers trembling lightly. 

You pulled him into your arms and he sagged against your body. He buried his head in your shoulder, all of his anger crumbling away to reveal the sad, broken mess beneath. You pressed a kiss to the crown of his head, eyes flickering shut as you held him tight. “I’m so sorry, Loki.”

You sat that way for many minutes, whispering gentle nothings into his ear and stroking his hair until Loki finally pulled back. No illusions, no pretences. Now, you were seeing the truth of his soul with all of its jagged edges. For all that he had suffered, for the torture he’d survived and the tyrants who had tried to break him, Loki still had hope. 

“I’m so tired,” Loki sighed, carrying the weight of the world in those three simple words. 

“I know. You don’t have to face that alone, though.”

Loki lifted a hand to your face, cupped your cheek once again, then kissed you tenderly. All of his pain, his fear and hatred shifted into something lighter, the tension lifted from his body as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed away the tears that fell from his eyes. 

Vulnerable, his heart completely open to you, Loki trembled with each brush of your mouth against his. Each word punctuated by another kiss, he breathed, “You are incredible.”

“I know,” you grinned, feeling a shaky smile against yours. You pulled away, arm linked with his, bodies close together as you started back towards the palace for your final night together. Loki attempted to smile but soon gave up, content to show his comfort and gratitude to you with gentle swirling patterns across the back of your hand as you walked. 

You rest your head against his shoulder and asked, “Do the Fortunans have a wine cellar?”

“A huge one.”

“Good. I think we should get drunk." 

"My physiology makes that rather difficult.”

Your smile grew even wider. “Challenge accepted.”


	8. Chapter 8

“Ah, the Aesir child returns! My, what beauty you hid behind those awful rags. Now, you blossom in my designs!” The tailor jumped from his stool and circled you, a gleeful smile on his face. “Still, a little less here, or a sharper line along the front, and you could grace the screens yet.”

He tugged on the silver fabric, stretching it into new shapes, bringing his ideas to life with a few well placed pins. The Fortunan was all hands, his fingers following the curves of your body but completely unlike the Tepatian. There was no threat here; he simply considered you another mannequin, a model on which to showcase his own brilliance. And there was no denying it - the tailor’s creations were beautiful beyond compare. 

On and on he filled the silence with potential ideas, complimenting your Xistean physique. Only when he finally stopped for breath - Fortunan’s had remarkable lung capacity - did you finally manage to get a word in edgeways. “Sir, I did not come here to alter this dress. I came to ask a favour.”

“Ask away,” he said, setting his scissors back on the worktable. 

“Tonight is my last evening on Fortuna Main. I want it to be special.”

His eyes lit up, the already captivating purple irises shifting at least three shades lighter in excitement. The tailor took your hand and led you to a corner of his workshop, immediately launching into details about the fantastic dresses that lined the walls. They ranged in colours and styles but each was obviously his creation. Something about how the gems glittered in the light, how they practically danced across the materials and teased what lay beneath their brilliant shine. 

As you waited for your opening to speak, you ran your fingers over the voluminous skirts and trousers. Each was soft to the touch, like passing through a drifting cloud. Light and airy, a necessity in the heavy morning heat, the fabrics danced beneath your fingers. Truly breathtaking creations but not what you desired. 

Sensing as much, far more intuitive than you’d given him credit for, the tailor nodded to himself and said, “More intimate wear, perhaps?”

When you considered the amount on show in regular Fortunan wear, you shouldn’t have been surprised to find how little fabric constituted their underwear. The thin lacy scraps, beautifully embroided though they might be, would barely cover any part of your body and you briefly wondered why the members of high society even bothered. 

Despite your reservations, your gaze did linger on one set of garments; scalloped edges lined with tiny shimmering crystals, set into a gorgeous emerald fabric. You closed your eyes, imagined wearing the delicate lace, practically able to feel Loki’s hands on your skin as he clawed at the fabric, his warm mouth surrounding your core through the silky material… 

“Seamsmaster,” you said, shaking yourself back to the present. “I had hoped you could make for me something off my home world, Xistea. We have special gowns…”

The tailor raised an eyebrow, obviously aware of them. You fidgeted uneasily as you wondered what else he knew about the rituals. “Shanto robes? A complex construction for such short notice.”

“With your considerable skills, I had hoped you could adapt the design and combine it with Fortunan fabrics. This one in particular?” You touched the green underwear, plaintively ignoring the heat that rose up your neck. 

It was a lot to ask, you were aware. As the tailor considered it, you rifled through your bag and pulled out a small broach. Made from black crystal, the shimmer of multi-coloured veins which ran through the pin was far more impressive than the design itself. You handed it over to the Fortunan and pleaded softly. “Please, good man. I know you are more than capable.”

His eyes widened an extraordinary width upon recognising the material. “This is negothalite ore.”

“Pure as it comes." 

Earned in the same particularly productive week on Kitson where you’d won the Osfray Token, you had been saving the broach to barter transfer out of the sector but this was more important. Everything had to be perfect for tonight, no matter the cost. 

"This amount of ore… It is worth twenty times the cost of your robe. Are you certain?”

“Will you do it?”

“Of course,” the tailor said, pocketing the precious broach. “Consider it completed already. I shall have it delivered to your chambers by nightfall.”

You bid him a polite farewell and headed back to your room. Rounding a corner, you ran straight into the chest of another. You stumbled backwards and apologised immediately, only to find that it was Loki. 

Cutting off your apology, Loki caught your face in his hands and pulled you into a deep kiss. It was all consuming, overwhelming all of your senses. The bustling hallway faded away to nothing, the cheerful muttering of passersby nothing more than background noise, a far away grumble of the universe compared to the beating of your heart. 

A soft smile on his lips as he broke the kiss, Loki rubbed his thumb across your cheekbone. “I came back from this morning’s meetings and found our suite empty. I wondered where you had run off to.”

You entwined your fingers with his and started off down the hallway, unfazed by the curious stares of those around you. Word of the Tepatian incident had spread through the delegations and respect for Loki had soared. They regarded you now like a real couple, rather than a dignitary with his whore. 

“I was visiting the tailor, if you must know.”

Loki was obviously curious to hear more but didn’t push it. Instead, he said, “All the arrangements have been made for this evening.”

Beneath the cheer, you were certain you could hear his heart breaking. Or perhaps you were simply projecting. After Loki’s admissions yesterday about the Osfray token and his mother, he’d softened up, allowed himself to be more tactile. He embraced you at every opportunity, always touching you some way or another as if he were scared that you too might disappear from his life. 

With tomorrow marking the end of the festival and your time on Fortuna, you were both aware that this couldn’t last. Perhaps his openness was just making the most of your final few hours. You didn’t dissuade the intimacy but the casualness with which he touched you left you fighting uncertain thoughts. Did this really mean as much to him as it did to you or were you just this week’s toy?

You shook your head, pushing that treacherous thought aside. What were you saying? Of course, Loki cared for you. He wasn’t the kind to open up to just anyone. He wouldn’t have risked his own safety to rescue from the Tepatian if you were just another distraction. He cared. This was real. 

“None of the delegations are upset about your absence from the closing ceremony?”

Loki scoffed. “Of course not. The Fortunans understand and were incredibly keen to keep me happy after the incident with the Tepatian brute. The other delegations no longer care now that negotiations are closed. Tonight, I shall be all yours." 

***

You ran your fingers over the silver box on your bed and plucked the card from the top. Scrawled hastily in quadrant standard, the message read: _For my most generous patron, I hope it meets your needs. Good fortune to you._ Beneath that, a series of numbers and contact details for should you ever desire another tailor made gown. 

Inside the box, the Shanto robe was carefully folded. Topped with a beautiful selection of jewellery (a fair and almost expected addition, considering how much you had overpaid the tailor for his services), you ran your fingers over the soft, lacy fabric. It was impractical for Xistea but perfect for Fortuna’s warmer conditions. 

Replacing the lid, you turned to the door and called for Loki. He responded instantly, lingering in the doorway as he waited for your express permission to enter. A thoughtful gesture, considering what you’d been through. 

"May you assist me, Loki?”

“With?”

“A custom on Xistea. It's… Well… In certain circumstances…”

You dragged your hands down your face, struggling to find the words. Shanto rituals were a parting of ways, shared only with your _xis'tha_ \- an untranslatable word, roughly approximated as ‘the one with whom your heart is safe’. They were most often performed at the end of days, before a Xistean died. 

Death was a choice on your homeworld. Couples often chose to pass on together. It was a deeply personal decision to move on, made when a Xistean decided there was nothing more to experience. Some people departed early in their life, others would live for centuries before moving on, but it was always peaceful. Just like falling asleep. You would dress, spend the night with the one who completed you, your _xis'tha_ , and leave the universe with nothing but peace in your heart. 

Of course, you weren’t ready to die yet. There was too much else to see, to experience, to learn, but it felt right to say goodbye this way. Loki held your heart in a way no other ever had and in leaving him the universe would grow that little bit colder, the stars would lose a little of their shine. 

You could tell Loki none of that, though. The meaning of the Shanto rituals was never spoken aloud. It was too personal even to share with the one who held your heart. Offering your hand, your fears vanishing as Loki instantly reached to take it, you said, “I cannot tell you. But I can show you.”

At his nod, you sat crossed legged on the ground opposite one another. Close enough for your knees to touch, you pulled a pot of bright crimson paste from your bag. Loki eyed it cautiously but you were quick to quell his fears. Nothing more than a mix of herbs and flowers, you dipped your finger into the paste to prove its safety. 

Loki leaned back as you lifted your fingers to his face, still uncertain, but quickly readjusted his position. Trust shone brightly in his eyes. His entire body relaxed as your fingertips brushed his cheek, painting three parallel lines across his skin. 

“ _What has been, what is and what will remain._ " 

Would Loki’s gift of the Alltongue translate that, you wondered? They were words so old that they predated Xistea’s modern civilisation by centuries and could be traced back to the very first ancestors. What remained of their language had long since been lost but those precious words had endured, a promise to your entire species that love would outlive you all. 

Lowering your hand, you glanced to the small pot of paste and said, "Now you do it.”

He dipped his fingers into the small jar and scooped up a small amount of the paste, rubbing the tips together to spread the crimson concoction evenly across his skin. Moving to copy your action, he paused, suddenly uncertain. “Should they be straight?”

“There is no wrong way to do it, Loki. Three lines, however you wish.”

“For the past,” he uttered, drawing the first mark across your cheek. A soft tingle spread over your skin where he touched. More than a physical reaction to his touch, it resonated deeper, unlocking something in your heart. A love so intense that it was almost painful. 

As he moved to make his second line, tracing his fingers delicately over the tip of your nose, a green shimmer caught your eye. Loki was imbuing the paste with his magic, casting a protective charm over you. It wasn’t even a conscious decision, you realised. “For the present.”

For the final line, Loki traced the edge of your bottom lip. He doubled back, careful to capture the exact curve, grinning softly. He knew, of course he did, how each gentle brush against your lips sent a shiver down your spine. Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he muttered quietly, “For the future.”

Only as he pulled back did you truly process what he had said. Not as eloquent as your ancestral Xistea taught but the sentiment was exactly the same. Never had you imagined that nine little words would have such a profound effect on you. 

“What now?” Loki whispered.

“I’d like to braid your hair - if that’s okay?”

Loki considered a moment then nodded, unfolding his legs. You shuffled into the newly created gap and rest your hands on his thighs, taking a moment to once again appreciate how intensely beautiful his eyes were. You truly had never come across anything like them, such a distinct colour and so very expressive. It was a gift indeed, being able to speak without so much as breathing a word. 

His arms circled around your waist, drawing random, soothing patterns on your back as you pulled and twisted his hair around your fingers. The soft, dark strands came together in a messy plait. You almost undid the whole lot to try again but recalled your earlier words to Loki: there was no wrong way to do this. 

“Why are you smiling?” You briefly glanced away from the strands in your fingers and almost lost your breath, blindsided by Loki’s incredible smile. There was only fondness there, not a trace of the harsh, sarcastic grin he reserved for the rest of the world. His walls had given way completely, revealing the gentle man, broken but desperate to love - and be loved - once more. 

“Because you’re beautiful.”

There was no hesitation, no trace of a lie. It was a little overwhelming, if you were being honest, to be seen, truly and completely. To have someone open themselves up to you and return the favour, to give in to vulnerability and offer your heart willingly. There was no one else you would rather share that terrifying journey with, though. 

Returning your attention to the half finished braid, you muttered, “Silver tongue.”

“For once, I only speak the truth. What was in the box? I saw one of the courtiers bring it in.”

“You’ll find out soon. Where are you heading after this?”

Loki’s smile faltered slightly, barely visible but obvious up close. Interestingly, he summoned no illusion to hide the crack, maintaining a complete openness with you. “I suppose I shall begin the return journey to Earth. With a few stop offs on the way, of course. Have you arranged transport off Fortuna?”

“I spoke to a Mongetrone trader who is willing to give me passage to the next star system in return for some maintenance work on their engine.”

“Oh. I wouldn’t bother, you know. It’s truly awful. Aliprax Alpha Two. The nearest star system,” he clarified. “All of the colonies are scrap yards and junker hubs. Pollution is terrible. Lots of toxic fumes. A right dump.”

“I’m a little short on other options.”

“You could visit Earth.”

You laughed, a short, sad sound. A nice thought, for certain, but impractical. “Getting transport out of the system is difficult enough. It could take decades to barter my way that far across the galaxy. And it’s a primitive world. Getting out of the Sol System and back to civilisation would be difficult.”

“I wasn’t suggesting you hitch a ride on a common junker ship, love.”

You leaned back and admired your work, especially the bright red streaks which twisted through Loki’s dark braids. Wiping the remaining crimson paste on the skirt of your dress, you were once again struck by how handsome the ambassador was. 

After a long second, Loki asked, “Is there more to this ritual?”

“Now we wash one another.” You didn’t have to see his expression to know that he was smirking. You turned and headed towards the bathroom, shaking your head. “Don’t say a word.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

In preparation for the Shanto ritual, you had already drawn a shallow bath (although in the enormous tub, 'shallow’ still meant a good few feet). White and purple petals floated atop the water, their sweet scent filling the air. You breathed it in, savouring the light fragrance, then took a seat on the edge of the large tub. Loki silently joined you. 

Slowly, you reached over and tugged the edge of Loki’s shirt, freeing it from his trousers. You pulled it over his head, folding the fabric neatly and placing it at his feet. On your word, he turned around so you could see only his back. At this point in the ritual, you would usually wash the distinctive marks that covered a Xistean’s skin but, obviously, Loki lacked those.

What he did have, though, was a dreadful collection of scars and wounds which had never truly healed. Loki’s shoulders stiffened, no doubt aware of the awful picture his marred skin painted, but a carefully placed kiss on the back of his neck relaxed some of that tension. You dipped a sponge in the cool water and began to wash the marks, taking care to clean each one, and he relaxed further. 

Then it was your turn. Loki laughed as you struggled to remove your dress - these Fortunan designs were beautiful indeed but required a minimum of four hands to get in or out of them with any ease. He shuffled along the edge of the bathtub and knocked your fingers aside, working loose the cords that held the back together. 

Savouring every brush of his fingers against your skin, your eyes flickered shut as he pushed the sparkling fabric from your shoulders. The air was warm but you still shivered as the thin fabric pooled around your waist. 

Loki grabbed the wet sponge and rubbed gentle circles over the unique trail of marks that stretched from your neck all the way down your spine. He took great care to cover them all, the soft, soothing friction of the sponge over your skin drawing all tension from your body. 

He leaned into you, his bare chest flushed against your damp skin, and Loki wrapped his arms around you, practically lifting you into his lap. He pressed a kiss to the base of your neck, hands sliding up to cup your breasts. “I like this part,” he mumbled. His soft lips tickled your sensitive skin as cool fingers teased your nipples. 

With great reluctance, you guided his hands back to your waist. “Try to control yourself a little while longer.”

“I’m not accustomed to waiting, my dear.”

“Loki…”

A warm chuckle rolled through his body, the gentle vibrations setting all your nerves alight. Loki’s lips brushed across your skin with every word, his low tone lighting a fire deep inside your soul. Filled with promise, he muttered, “I tease, dearest. You’ll find that patience is a virtue in which I am well versed. Delayed gratification is a tremendous thing.”

You shoved him back, rolling your eyes. Perched precariously on the edge of the bathtub, your light push knocked Loki off balance. Arms flailing, clasping for the non existent fabric on your waist, Loki tumbled into the water behind. Cool drops of floral water splashed at your back, rolling down the curve of your spine. 

A long moment passed before Loki’s head reappeared from beneath the surface, the ambassador resembling a drowned rodent. His dark hair clung to his face, the red marks on his cheeks smudged but still mostly intact. Silence hung in the air until your hysterical laughter shattered the awkwardness. 

“Not the traditional way to end a Shanto ritual, I presume?”

“It’s not over yet.” Reaching down, you brushed the wet strands from his eyes and tucked the surviving braids behind his ears. You pressed a long kiss to his lips, relieved to feel him smiling. “Dinner, half hour.”

You gathered the fabric of your dress then slipped into the bedroom and closed the door, resting your back against the stone slab with a smile on your face. Eyes shut, you could still feel Loki’s hands on your skin, the delicate, one could hopefully say loving, way in which he’d touched you, washed your body. If you had been in any doubt before, there was no denying it now. Loki was your _xis'tha_ , and your heart would always be safe with him. 

No time to waste, you reopened the tailor’s box and stripped out of the remaining parts of your current dress. Pulling the lacy wraps, you began the intricate process of dressing. It took a few attempts to get the Shanto robe to hang properly - this was not something children of Xistea practised, after all; when the time came to perform the ritual, you would visit a guide on your homeworld that walked you through the ritual in depth - but you succeeded in time. 

You turned to the mirror, tears forming in the corner of your eyes. The lace wound its way up your arm, criss crossed over your chest and torso, shimmering beautiful contrasting shades of green and gold in the moonlight. At your hips, the line tapered out and descended softly to your ankles. As you swayed, it moved with such lightness, such grace and air, that it could be mistaken as a cloud, floating on the nonexistent breeze. 

It was beautiful, everything you could possibly have hoped for and more. Worth every single credit. 

The soft rapping at the door pulled you from your thoughts and Loki - still shirtless - poked his head around the door. “Dinner is… Y/N… You look…” He crossed the threshold, drawn to you like a moth to a flame. He wet his lips, eyes wide, genuinely lost for words. “My love, you are truly stunning.”

“The robe is beautiful, isn’t it?”

Loki shook his head, his hands resting on your hips. The awe on his face, it was as if he were looking into the eyes of a goddess, humbled to be in your very presence. He spun you around, taking in every inch of you with reverence. “Tis not the robe, dearest. It’s the one beneath.”

He traced the red lines on your face, a heart wrenching mix of love and sadness in his eyes. With his palms cupping your face, blocking out the rest of the world, you could have happily passed on right there and then. Nothing would ever be as perfect as this. Judging by the look on his face, Loki felt exactly the same way. 

“This ritual…”

You closed your eyes, biting back the tears. Forehead pressed against his, you said, “You can’t ask.”

“I do not need to,” Loki whispered. “It’s a goodbye.”

“Of sorts, yes." 

He was so close to understanding but you couldn’t expand further. It just wasn’t done, no matter how much you needed him to see that this was as much a goodbye as a confirmation of love. Perhaps it was best that you parted ways without him knowing the exact truth; it would be easier for you both that way. The love that would connect you together for the rest of your life could hide there beneath the passion to feel while remaining unspoken, unnamed and undefined forever.

You kissed him softly, grabbed the band of his trousers and guided him towards the large bed. Loki laid you down, holding himself above you as he paused to take in the sight. You could only imagine what he saw but his reaction was clear. Tonight, you were his queen and he would use every considerable skill in his possession to make this a night, a goodbye, to remember.


	9. Chapter 9

The palace was quiet. The twin suns wouldn’t rise for another yet, at least, giving you plenty of time to slip away before your absence was noticed. The thought of waking up beside Loki, seeing the hurt in his eyes as you packed your bags and left forever, was too much. The possibility that he might ask you to stay made your heart ache even more. 

Around you, the towering stone pillars that lined the courtyard were nothing more than dark shadows, the glittering stone dull without the bright sunlight to bring them to life. In the night, the palace almost felt like a tomb, a memorial to a civilisation that had stood proud over this world but had now lost its true way. An empty shell of what had once been - a feeling you understood too well. 

You nodded politely to the guard on duty, an uncomfortably warm shiver spreading across your skin as you stepped through the palace forcefields. His curious glance was obvious even beneath the ceremonial mask but the Fortunan had the sense not to raise any questions. You understood his interest; if you had been in his position, you would have wanted the gossip too. 

Over the week, your face had become well recognised by the courtiers. You were regarded with a mixture of badly disguised distaste and a wistful desire to be in your place. Rumours had run wild from the very first day, everyone interested in the commoner who so clearly did not belong with the other delegations. The favourite story among the court was not that far from the truth: you were a chancer, a beauty who had seduced the ambassador to get access to the grand parties and high society celebrations. 

After the Tepatian incident, the whispers had quietened - the majority coming to the realisation that you and Loki did actually care about each other and this wasn’t some kind of power grab game - but the locals were still clearly invested in your presence. To see you out of the stunning Fortunan gowns and back in your grungy trader digs would no doubt be golden gossip for the guard and the perfect end to your now legendary fairytale week. 

An intricate pattern of colourful stones and gems formed the path which led back to the central city. You hadn’t noticed the beautiful pathway on your arrival at the palace, too lost in the party atmosphere that first day. Even in the night, with only the dim light from the distant stars above, the craftmanship took your breath away. 

Nearing the city, the intense smell of spices and flowers floated on the breeze and left your nostrils tingling. Fortunans already lined the streets, busying themselves with chores and preparation for the day ahead. They greeted you with friendly smiles, used to off-worlders. A few even remembered you from the delegation tour and your apparently infamous attempt to eat a spicy pastry pocket whole. 

One tired elder gave you directions to the star port and you bought a small cup of herbal tea as a thank you. It wasn’t that bad, all considering. Fortanans weren’t overly keen on sweet flavours, you’d learned, but the delicate floral favour was perfectly pleasant. So much so that you actually doubled back through the city to fill your flask for the onward journey (absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you’d gotten a little lost and accidentally ended up back where you started). 

As you neared the star port, the Mongetrone ship coming into view in the distance, you adjusted the straps on your sack. They pulled uncomfortably on your shoulders, testing the limits of the uneven stitching. Usually you travelled light, the only way when you were constantly on the move, but your bag was currently weighed down by the tailor’s fabulous dresses. You didn’t want to barter them but they’d sell for at least a thousand credits each, more than enough to get you between neighbouring systems. With the nearest casino planet almost six months away, you needed all the money you could scrounge to sustain yourself. 

Purple rays from the rising suns bathed the port in a gentle glow. The hustle and bustle of loading crews filled the gentle silence, growing louder with each passing minute. Alien languages from over fifteen systems drew your attention in every direction, the mayhem of this life crashing down on you once again. This past week at the palace had been such a change of pace that you were almost overwhelmed by what had been your life for years now. 

It wasn’t long before your presence was noticed by the Mongetrone. She was polite enough for a captain, pointing you to the right docking bay to dump your bag and explaining what was required of you without once looking up from her info-pad. The ship was scheduled to depart in three raps - you had no idea how long that was but suspected it was sooner rather than later, judging by her haste. She left with a curt nod and you immediately got to work, packing the loading bay with crates of Fortunan goods. 

Less than five minutes passed when your new Captain yelled, “Oi. Xistean." 

You glanced up, worried that you’d done something wrong already. That wouldn’t be the best start. She made no move to cross the loading bay so you scuttled over, weaving through the rest of the busy crew, muttering quiet apologies to everyone you bumped into. The Mongetrone clapped a hand on your shoulder and pointed toward the end of the port. "Some black haired man is asking for ya. I don’t want no trouble on my ship and I ain’t got no more room for your friend. You say your dues and get back to work, aight?" 

Loki was waiting for you at the edge of the loading platform, pointedly ignoring a short Ghaklu trader who was trying to flog him a knockoff galactic timepiece. He waved the short, red skinned alien away and slipped through the barrier, striding over to meet you. He pulled you into a tight embrace and for a moment all your fears and worries slipped away. Safe in his arms, you breathed in his familiar scent and softened against his broad chest.

As with all good things, though, the comforting embrace had to end. Loki pulled away, his face hard. Just another facade, though, a thinly veiled attempt to regulate his emotions. You could practically see the tips of his hair sparkling green, his magic providing an illusion of control. "I woke up and you were gone.”

Eyes on his dark boots, focused on the dust and dirt that had accumulated on the trek through the main city, you said softly, “I was trying to make this easier for us both. Goodbyes are so hard.”

“You shouldn’t have left.”

“I had to.” You finally met his gaze, immediately wishing you hadn’t. Fingers trembling, you reached over to take his hand in yours. Nothing in the universe could ever hurt as much as when he pulled away, opening an eternity’s distance between you. This was why you’d left before the dawn, to avoid this exact situation. Surely he understood. “Loki…”

He closed his eyes, the illusion faltering at the sound of his name falling from your lips. Resolute, Loki pulled the Osfray Token from his pocket and dropped it into your hands. Cold, almost harsh if not for the tremble beneath each word, he said, “Keep it.”

You shook your head, thrusting it back to him. “You let me live my fantasy, just as you said you would. It’s fair payment. A deal is a deal.”

“I thought it was more than that! I thought that what we felt was real!” Surprised as you at his own outburst, Loki took a deep breath to steady himself. The illusion had faded entirely now, his heightened emotions conflicting too much to maintain a steady flow of magic. His eyes were dark, every line on his face harsh and taunt with a pain too deep to put into words. 

Rising over the warehouse, the purple suns cast a beautiful shadow over Loki’s face, warming the ice in his soul, his resolve physically melting away. With a sigh so deep that it could have shook the ground beneath your feet, Loki shook his head and reached for your hand. It fit perfectly, as if you two had been made for eachother, and that very fact made it infinitely harder for you both.

He led you out of the docking bay, into the morning light. You took a precarious seat on one of the handrails on the edge of the port, staring out into the distance. The suns were warm on your skin, not quite high enough to be uncomfortable yet but on the verge nonetheless. Loki sighed once more before finally breaking the heavy silence between you. 

Consciously twisting his fingers together, the action visibly calming him, Loki said, “I’ve lost so much, Y/N. My mother, my homeworld, my mind. It’s all so fragile. But with you… It’s solid, something I can almost reach out and hold. I never believed that I would find someone who would dare to love me, not after everything I’ve done. It’s foolish, really, to believe that you could possibly feel that way for me after such a short time and yet I know you must.”

“Self assured much?” you teased, although the words came out grave. Your forced levity fell away beneath his desperate gaze. All the walls you’d put up, all the reasons you’d concocted not to follow this through crumbled to dust. There was no point in hiding the truth any longer. Tugging on the tattered sleeves of your jacket, you confirmed, “I do. Of course I do, Loki.”

“Then why would you leave me?" 

The awful crack in his voice brought tears to your eyes. Vaguely aware of your Mongetrone captain shouting orders for the final shipment, you turned to him and tried to smile. "Because I’m scared that one day you’ll grow bored and leave me stranded on a distant planet with nothing but my heartache. That this was a beautiful honeymoon period that will fade away and turn into spite and hatred. I worry that I will never be good enough for a prince of Asgard and you’ll soon realise as such.”

“What else?”

Oh, he was sharp as a tack and you hated him for it. Barely able to speak the words, afraid that vocalising them might actually make them true, you whispered, “I’m scared that you don’t love me as much as I love you. I have given you my heart, Loki. It is easier to walk away with fond memories than risk you shattering it all.”

Loki cupped your face in his hands and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “I assure you, I would do no such thing. I’ve seen the darkest corners of the universe and know now to hold on to what is precious. Your love is a gift to me and I swear to treasure it. To treasure you.”

“Loki…" 

"Please, my love. Do not get on that Mongetrone hunk of junk. Travel the universe with me instead. I can promise great food and exceptional company. Planets you’ve never heard of and everything else you deserve in this life. Of course, my ship only has one bed but I’m sure we could come to some sort of arrangement.”

“You’re serious.”

“Earnestly so. We both know that lives can change on a single moment, for better or for worse. There is too much uncertainty to hesitate now and I for one am not ready to let you go just yet. This is our moment, Y/N. Please, don’t go.”

“Okay.”

Loki pulled back and blinked, almost as if he couldn’t believe you were actually agreeing. That, for the first time in decades, that the universe was actually bending in his favour. “Okay?”

A grin erupted across your face. You threw your arms around him, clinging on for love and life - and to stop yourself from falling off the rail. Capturing his mouth in a deep kiss, you gave your heart and soul to him, throwing caution to the non-existent wind. It was foolish and no doubt doomed to fail but in that moment you couldn’t bring yourself to maintain negativity anymore. Loki was right; life was short and precious and you didn’t want to throw this away on the off chance that you may eventually drift apart. 

“Oi. You two. The ship’s leaving. Ya coming or not?”

You turned towards the Mongetrone captain, a sheepish smile on your face. Loki rested his hands on your hips, holding you steady on the thin rail. His fingers teased their way beneath your shirt, sparks dancing across your skin everywhere he touched. “I don’t think I need the ride anymore.”

“Shame. Coulda used a decent engineer. Good fortunes to the both of ya.” She tossed your sack across the loading bay - surprising accurate over such a distance, getting it to land directly at your feet - then disappeared into her ship. 

Loki pulled the Osfray Token from his pocket and slipped it around your neck, his fingers lingering over the sensitive marks that decorated your skin. So delicate and yet burning with desire. He pressed a gentle kiss the largest and held you tightly against his chest. “Where do you want to go, then?”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll go anywhere so long as it’s with you,” you said, twisting around to kiss him again. For the first time in years, despite the clattering and shouting that filled the docking port, you felt at peace. In Loki’s eyes, there was only love - well, a little mischievous glint, too. 

You were, for lack of a better word, happy. Truly happy. And you knew that he was too. Both of you were scared, not of opening up but losing something beautiful, however you were willing to take the plunge in the name of what could be. Whatever happened, you knew one thing for sure: With Loki by your side, it didn’t matter where in the universe you were, you would always be home.


End file.
